


got me happy, happy

by aceofdiamonds



Series: is that such a stretch of the imagination? [7]
Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22137121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceofdiamonds/pseuds/aceofdiamonds
Summary: Blair walks down the aisle alone, her dress swinging by her knees, her hands steady with her pink bouquet as she grins at Harry. There’s a breeze that blows her hair across her face and when it clears she’s reached the alter, a hand reaching out to Harry, who leans and whispers, “Are all these people looking for a show or something?” which makes her snort and her heart to settle in her chest.harry and blair's wedding
Relationships: Harry Potter/Blair Waldorf
Series: is that such a stretch of the imagination? [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/90682
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	got me happy, happy

**Author's Note:**

> it’s been two years since i wrote anything for this verse but believe me when i say i’m constantly thinking about it. title is from pete davidson by ariana grande bc i started writing this when this song came out in august 2018
> 
> the wedding has actually been covered in cosmic love but it was from the perspective of eleanor waldorf and oliver wood so i've redone it. i've retconned the wedding okay
> 
> i always feel like people are missing in this verse! the two worlds are too big!
> 
> but i'm hoping to write more soon

After that day on the couch, where Harry had quietly said ‘marry me?’ and Blair had said yes for the third time in her life, they discuss where they go from here. Wedding plans should be second nature to Blair by this point but that was royal wannabe princess weddings, desperate last minute murder trial weddings. They’re starting over. 

“I don’t want a long engagement,” Harry says, lifting Blair’s hand to kiss her, a slightly larger, slightly sparklier ring next to the hastily made one from the proposal. He presses her hand to his chest, right above his heart, and Blair closes her eyes, unable to forget the tale he told of a walk into a forest, a flash of green light, and an old man in a train station. “I want to marry you as soon as possible.” 

“Scared I run away?” Blair says softly, almost tips in to stupidly hyperbolic romantic language of promising never to leave because she’s been here before, however different this time around may be. Not saying it aloud doesn’t make it not true. “Short engagement, small wedding,’ she decides.

Harry hums his agreement. For being the face of Wizarding Britain, he’s an extremely private person. “How about me, you, and Serena to ordain us.” 

“As lovely as that sounds, I think we need to go a little bigger. You’ve got your ginormous family, after all.” 

“The Weasleys take up two rows on their own,” he agrees. “So, where are we doing this then?” 

“I’ve been married twice in New York,” and look how good they are at talking about their past relationships and all the marks they left. “What about Scotland?” 

Scotland is rolling green hills and wide open spaces. It’s quiet and it’s pretty and it’s thousands of miles from Manhattan. 

  
  


.

  
  


Third time’s a charm, without being crass about it. 

  
  


.

  
  


When Blair tells her mom that she’s getting married, her mom pulls her close into a hug, says that she deserves this, as Cyrus weeps into their shoulders. 

“A wizard for a son-in-law,” Eleanor tries out. “Well, it’s not what I ever expected for you, Blair,” and Blair holds in a breath, 24 and still annoyingly desperate for her mother’s blessing. “But I’ve never seen you happier - I think you were waiting for each other.” 

Blair hands Cyrus another hankie and hugs her mom once again, pressing her face into the crook of her neck. 

She Facetimes her dad as soon as Cyrus has finally stopped saying ‘not enough’ every time she goes to leave the room, and holds out her hand with the ring. He beams, says he can’t wait for the wedding, and then reminds her of the first time he met Harry -- 

“Blair tells me you used to be a soldier,” Harold Waldorf had said when Blair had taken Harry to France for their first Christmas together, voice warm, friendly. Harry had squeezed Blair’s hand at this, not been told the warning, but recovered smoothly.    
  
“That’s right, sir.”   
  
“You must have been young.”    
  
Which is where Harry hesitated because he can’t really get into child soldiers and wars over souls with his new girlfriend’s Muggle father. At least, not when it’s their first meeting.    
  
“It wasn’t exactly what I was expecting.” 

“And now you’re a footballer.”    
  
“That’s right, sir,” Harry had said again, and winced.

“I looked you up,” and here Blair had sighed at her dad’s thoroughness. “I couldn’t find anything.”    
  
“I’m not a very good footballer,” which wasn’t exactly a lie.    
  
“I couldn’t find anything about your serving either —“   
  
“Daddy, interrogating new boyfriends is an old cliche and you’re better than that,” and Blair had came to Harry’s rescue, slipping her hand under his arm.    
  
“I’m just interested, sweetie. Your boyfriends always have very interesting professions.”    
  
“It takes a lot to keep me interested,” Blair had agreed, before -- “Come on, Harry, I need to show you something,” which, paired with a smirk was enough for Harry’s mind to whirl into overdrive and for her to tug him gently away. She’s always known him so well, you see. 

Her dad laughs now, “I can’t believe I fell for that. A footballer.” 

“He’s awful, Daddy, says it’s something about being born to fly.” Blair rolls her eyes. 

“And how’s your job? All my friends ask me when they come over is when your next line is coming out.”

“I’m in such high demand,” Blair laughs, fluttering her eyes, flush with pride. “I have a couple more shows for this season, then it’s the wedding --”

“So soon!” her dad exclaims. “Are you --?”

“God, Dad, no I’m not pregnant. We just don’t see the point in waiting.” Blair pauses, continues quieter. “Will you be able to make it? With work? Will Roman?” Because fathers running off to France and abandoning you when you’re fifteen isn’t something you always grow out of. 

“Of course, honey. We’ll be there,” and he smiles and everything is forgiven. “Congratulations, Blair.”

  
  


.

  
  


When Harry makes his announcement at the next Weasley gathering, George catcalls, Percy makes a comment about the right investments as a married couple, and Mrs Weasley takes Harry to the side and envelopes him in a hug that makes his throat dry, a stab of everyone who is missing for this moment.

Blair sits with Ron and Arthur and listens to stories of Harry’s visits to the Burrow, and she watches as Ginny falls into the seat beside Harry, as she gives him a hug, and Blair can’t read lips, it’s not polite, but she sees Harry nod, say _ thanks, gin, you too _ , and she knows she was always right about Ginny - she’s one of the good ones. 

  
  


. 

  
  
  


Telling Teddy is a different story.

It’s nothing to do with Teddy having a problem with Blair - come on, they’ve known each for nearly two years now, and despite Harry’s nerves at introducing someone new to his godson, someone who he hasn’t known since birth, Teddy and Blair get along just fine.

In fact -- 

Teddy  _ loves _ Blair, much to her delight and confusement. She likes kids, wants some of her own some day, but they don’t always warm to her. But Teddy loved her accent and he loved her name and he loves having Very Serious conversations with her which end in them both inexplicably laughing. 

So when Harry and Blair go to Andromeda’s and say that they have some news, they have no concerns that he’ll have anything to say about this next step.

“I like your ring,” he tells Blair, scrambling down from his grandmother’s knee to look closer. He checks with Blair, who nods, and then with Andromeda who also nods, before reaching out and running his finger over the diamond. “Where did you get it?”

“Well,” Blair says, “Harry gave me it. He asked me to be his --” and here she trails off, looks at Harry. 

Harry grins. “Blair and I are going to get married, Teddy. That’s exciting, isn’t it?”

Teddy blinks. Blair glances at Andromeda who is beaming at her, oblivious to the emotions skittering across Teddy’s face as he peers at Harry and Blair. Blair swallows -- “Teddy, we were hoping you might like to help us plan some of it --”

At this Teddy’s nose screws up and a tiny hiccuped sob falls out. 

Harry scoops him up onto his lap, exchanging bewildered looks with Blair and Andromeda. “What’s up, buddy? You know nothing’s going to change, don’t you? You’ll still come and visit, we’ll go to the Burrow,” but Teddy is shaking his head, his face pressed into Harry’s neck. “Oh, what’s wrong then?” 

“I was going to marry Blair,” is the tiny reply, Teddy’s arms still locked around Harry’s neck, his confession whispered and snotty.

“Oh, honey,” Blair says, biting her lip to keep from laughing. Harry and Andromeda are doing the same, their shoulders shaking with the effort. She puts her arm around Harry, reaches out to gently brush her finger over Teddy’s ear until he looks up. “I bet you find someone much better for you when you’re older. Maybe they’ll be your age.”

“Will they be American?”

“Possibly.”

“Will they be as funny as you?”

And funny isn’t something Blair has ever been known for so she grabs on to it. “Probably not, no, but don’t worry, I’ll still be here if you need a few laughs.”

“Now I know why he looks so disappointed when I visit while you’re at work,” Harry laughs after Andromeda and Teddy have said goodbye, shouting their congrats through the fireplace.

“Don’t,” Blair tries, a laugh bubbling out of her. “It’s very sweet.”

  
  


.

  
  


They set a date for the middle of June. It’s typical wedding season but it’s about the only time of the year where you might not get rain in Scotland ( _ might _ not, the woman who shows them the venue stresses). It’s six weeks away and six weeks still feels almost too long but the Quidditch season is wrapping up and Blair has a few pitches to follow through and yes, they want to get married, but they don’t want to rush the details. You know, this is a once in a lifetime day. 

  
  


.

  
  


THE BOY WHO MARRIED A MUGGLE

  
  


.

  
  


They don’t mean it in a derogatory way, of course. They love Muggles. All they’re saying is that the boy so integral to their peacetime should marry someone who fought alongside him, who knows what he’s going through. Someone like Ginny Weasley. 

“Do you think they’ll ever let you live?” Blair asks, folding the Prophet and chucking it over the arm of the couch. “Will they ever stop calling you by a childhood moniker?” 

“I’m their savior,” Harry says dryly, eyes stuck on a spot on the floor, the lines from the article filtering past him. “First I left the Aurors to play Quidditch and now I marry an American Muggle.” 

“Hey, American wasn’t mentioned in the headline.” 

“They’ll get used to you,” he says, leaning in to kiss her forehead before heading to the kitchen. He’s inexplicably shirtless and there’s a bruise that spans the lower half of his back from a rough fall at practice. He stretches, winces at the twist of his spine, and Blair wonders what it’s like to have lived a dozen lifetimes before 24. He turns around, mug cradled in his hand. “I love you so much, Blair,” unexpected and blunt and so sweetly sincere. 

And Blair, the thought still automatic, compares to her ex-boyfriends, to her ex-husbands, and she settles into the cushions, smile so wide her cheeks hurt. 

  
  


.

  
  


They compile the invite list with the help of Teddy who exists on grouping everyone, first by connection to the happy couple, then alphabetically, and then by height.

“It could be an interesting way to make people mingle,” Blair agrees, “but why don’t we group them more traditionally and maybe halfway through we could ask everyone to rearrange by height?” 

Teddy nods solemnly. “That’s fair. Who will I be sitting with?”

“Who do you want to sit with?” 

He frowns, scans over the tiny animated pictures floating across the coffee table. “Ron. And Fleur?” 

“No kids?” 

“Well I’ll be with them when we’re arranged by height,” which is very true and Blair shuts up. 

  
  


.

  
  


The guest looks something like this:

The Bride:

Eleanor Waldorf // Cyrus Rose

Harold Waldorf // Roman Waldorf

Serena van der Woodsen, flying solo

Dorota Kishlovsky// Vanya

Nate Archibald // Autumn Jones 

Claire Castello (a fellow designer at B) and her wife Niamh Teigen

Dan Humphrey, also alone, but no, there’s nothing between them

The Groom:

Teddy Lupin

The Weasleys and their numerous partners

Rubeus Hagrid

Neville Longbottom

Luna Lovegood

Seamus Finnigan // Dean Thomas

Parvati Patil

Lavender Brown

Andromeda Black

The Tornadoes: Alicia McNulty // Connor Moran // Lucy Thompson // Eilidh Carmichael // Oliver Wood // Niall Sargent

Somewhere between miniscule and out of control. 

  
  


.

  
  


The final lead up is quiet, everything taken care of, and Blair and Harry are content to spend it holed up in the New York apartment, alternating between reading, having sex, and squeezing out everything else they feel they need to know about each other before they’re bonded in the eyes of the law. They treat this lazy, indulgent week as a reminder of the time they met and they spent their first month sunning themselves on the Italian coast and spilling secrets across worlds. 

“There are so many people I wish you could have met,” Harry confesses during one of these moments. Blair’s head is in his lap — his thumb brushes over her lip and she opens her eyes. “Sirius would have loved you.”

Blair maneuvers herself into Harry’s lap, her knees either side of him, cups his face and kisses him gently. “I want you to know, in case this wedding doesn’t say it clearly enough, that this is it for me. I’ve had a lot of love in my life, it’s gone all sorts of ways, and I know that this feels different. I also know that sometimes you think you don’t deserve a happy family after everything you’ve been through. But you do, Harry, and I love you.”

“I thought I was going to die at seventeen,” Harry says, resting his cheek against her torso. “I thought I was going to die to save the world and then spend the rest of my life trying to stop it happening again. So thank you, Blair, for being with me as I go a different way. I know it hasn’t been easy for you, coming into this world, but you’ve been amazing.” 

  
  


.

  
  
  


Blair shares a room with Serena the night before the big day. They’re in a big house in the highlands, one with high ceilings and ghost stories. Following a dinner with everyone, Blair kisses Harry goodnight and runs upstairs with Serena, a bottle of wine and a box of face masks in their arms.

They laugh until their stomachs hurt, regaling tales of their childhood for a non-existent audience. They talk about Constance and Dan and Lily and everything and anyone in between. Chuck even gets a mention, something about his dog, and Blair’s heart doesn’t clench in her throat. 

At one point the lights flicker and Serena says something about magic and then they remember that magic is real and that they’re surrounded by witches and wizards. That sets them off again, their laughter bouncing off the walls. 

  
  


.

  
  


Blair walks down the aisle alone, her dress swinging by her knees, her hands steady with her pink bouquet as she grins at Harry. There’s a breeze that blows her hair across her face and when it clears she’s reached the alter, a hand reaching out to Harry, who leans and whispers, “Are all these people looking for a show or something?” which makes her snort and her heart to settle in her chest. 

They say their vows, their voices quiet, steady, as though they’re talking just to each other. They wrote their own vows but their sentiments are similar -- after everything they’ve been through, they’ve found each other, and it all feels too good to be true but let them embrace it and be happier than they’ve ever been before. 

  
  
  


.

  
  


“Thank you for bringing so much love into my life.”

“Blair,” Harry says, his voice soft, sure. “My heart is so full of you.” 

  
  


.

  
  


During their first dance Blair lays her head of Harry’s chest, closes her eyes. They move around the room slowly, Harry’s hand warm around hers, and she feels so at peace it’s almost absurd. Is it possible to feel this happy? Is that something that people with healthy normal lives ever think? 

“Isn’t it lucky I lost my mind in New York and escaped to Italy?” she murmurs, their first meeting drifting to the front of her mind. She had been so scared that summer, of Chuck, of her future, and then here he had appeared, literally out of nowhere. 

‘Isn’t it lucky you didn’t push me into the sea when I Apparated almost on top of you?” Harry replies and when Blair lifts her head he’s gazing at her. She wants to know what he’s thinking. “We were both running away back then.” 

“We ran into each other,” she rises onto her toes to kiss him, curling her hand at the back of his neck. The song changes, there’s a smattering of applause, and then the dance floor slowly fills. “A wizard -- who would’ve believed it?” 

Harry says something that he’s told her time and time again. “You’re amazing,” and it’s so sincere, his faith so unshakable. “I can’t believe you married me.” 

“I’ve been known to have bad taste,” she says dryly. “You know I’m just here for the magic.” 

“And my body.”

“And your body. You have good angles.” 

“My angles are your angles, Blair.” 

“Can I cut in?” Arthur Weasley asks, offering a hand to Blair who takes it, throwing Harry a smile over her shoulder when she hears him telling her mom all about his new career as a model. She turns her attention to her new father-in-law and prepares herself for the slew of Muggle questions he always has ready but instead she gets, “How are you feeling?” which she isn’t ready for. When Blair blinks, opens her mouth, Arthur continues. “I remember the day I married Molly. I was so nervous I couldn’t speak until I had to say my vows and then I couldn’t do more than croak. Molly whipped out her wand, fixed me there and then, and held my hand the rest of the day. Seven kids later...” he trails off, waves a hand around at his brood, spinning Blair too slow for the music. “But how are you?”

“Calm, actually. Excited for whatever comes nect” she says, wonders if this is too much but Arthur beams, twirls her under his arm. 

“You both deserve the world, Blair, and I wish you the very best,” which is kind enough to bring tears to her eyes when Arthur spins her again, right into Serena’s arms --. 

“Well, hi, Mrs Potter,” Serena says, hugging Blair. “I know I know, you’re keeping your own name, just let me congratulate you. So, how do you feel?” 

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Blair laughs. She clasps Serena’s hands in her own, swaying them on the spot. “I’m so tired from carrying around this huge ring? I’m so overwhelmed with love I might faint?” 

“It’s a big day!” Serena exclaims. “Hey, do you think your kids will be magic?”

“Stop with the kids! Don’t you dare let my mother hear you. Anyway, I’m surprised you’re not hanging around Niall from Harry’s team.” 

“Give a lady time,” she laughs, “and get the lady a tequila.” 

And Blair may not be magic but she has her ways. She turns her head, “Ron!” she pulls him over to them, a hand on his arm. “Summon us a couple of shots, please?” 

“Is that all I am to you, Blair? A wand hand?” but he pulls her into a one-armed hug, sighs, calls it a wedding present, and summons three shots from the floating bar at the edge of the dancefloor. “Congratulations, Blair! I don’t know how you do it but I’m crediting you with the Tornados current winning streak.”

“Well I really can’t take credit for that but thank you.” 

“A happy Seeker is a happy team,” Ron explains and Blair would say he was drunk already but he comes out with things like this all the time. He spots Nate at the other side of the dancefloor and announces he needs to speak to his special boy. “A happy Harry is a happy Ron,” he tells her over his shoulder.

  
  


.

  
  


“I met Harry when I was eleven and he barged his way into my family, going on and on about how he was the so-called boy who lived and to show him the goddamn way to the platform —“ The room laughs at this, Harry the picture of politeness. “If I’d known then how chaotic the next seven years of my life were going to be I’d have told him I was napping all to Hogwarts, a final bit of peace and quiet.” Harry finds this hilarious, leaning around Ron to touch Hermione’s shoulder, a whispered comment. “I met Blair when I was twenty three when Harry appeared back from Italy after buggering off for three months with one letter to apologise and to gush about this American woman he’d met who’d turned his heart upside down. I’ve never told you this, Blair,” Ron says now, looking down at her from beside Harry, “but Harry has said many many unbelievable things to me over the years and nothing shocked me more than when he leaned over the table in The Leaky Cauldron the day he brought you to meet us and he said _ I’m going to marry Blair, Ron _ . And, well, here we are. As well all know, he’s not a liar and he’s found the person who is perfect for him in every way possible. I love you both and as shite as I was at Divination I know you’re going to make each other happy for the rest of your lives. To Harry and Blair.” 

  
  


.

  
  


“When Blair was six she told me she was going to be a princess, when she was ten she told me she was going to run the world, and when she was twenty two she told me she was going to marry a wizard. She was right on all accounts, of course -- although I’ve yet to see her stir a cauldron. Blair is my favourite person in the entire world and I’ve not seen her a fraction as happy and content as she has been over the past two years. To Blair and Harry - I wish you a lifetime of happiness. And maybe next time you run off to Italy take me with you so I can bump into a handsome stranger?”

  
  
  


.

  
  


The night flies past in a blur of music, dancing, drinks, and photos. Blair dances with Cyrus, Fleur, Teddy, Dorota, George -- she’d be quicker to say she danced with everyone, taking her shoes off halfway through and clutching her skirt around her thighs as Oliver Wood drunkenly attempts to teach everyone ceilidh dances. 

Bagpipes twirl through the air as everyone splits into pairs for the Gay Gordons, Oliver shouting instructions across the music before giving up and waving his wand to conjure ribbons that act out the steps above their heads. Blair’s partner is Dorota and both of them are too small to effectively twirl each other under their arms but they try their best, laughing until there’s tears in their eyes as they stomp forwards and backwards, turning and turning, miraculously not bumping into anyone around them. 

The music changes and suddenly Harry is by her side, taking her hands in his and tugging her over to the top of two lines of people. “Oliver says this is Strip the Willow and that he apologises in advance for the bruises.”

“What —“ but the bagpipes speed up and up and they’re off, twirling and twirling, together and then splitting off and working their way down the lines, linking arms with the next person in the line and dancing in circles. It’s the most exhausting dance Blair has ever been a part of - by the end of it she’s gasping, the insides of her arms already tender from whirling around so many people, but she laughs and laughs and claps for Nate and Autumn bouncing down the lines next. 

.

  
  


When she was six Blair planned out her wedding. She was going to marry Nate Archibald in the nicest hotel in New York. She would wear a designer white dress with thousands of beads and a huge veil and it would be the biggest news in New York. They would dance their first dance and everything would be perfect. 

She wants to go back to her six year old self and tell her that dreams are important but sometimes planning isn’t everything and that fate actually knows what it’s doing. That one of the easiest things they will ever do is fall in love with a man who makes them feel special, who respects them and never makes them feel small. 

Love doesn’t have to be dramatic or perfect to be true and princesses don’t always have a happy ending. 

  
  


.

  
  


Blair steps out of her dress, arms out to show off her fancy underwear, and gestures for Harry to hurry up and match which he does eagerly before falling onto the bed. 

She settles on top of him, her knees flush along his side, and she watches as his eyes darken and his mouth falls into a smirk. 

She taps across his bare chest, fingers brushing over the lion tattoo down his side. Its mouth is open in a roar across Harry’s stomach and Blair always insists she can feel the heat burning off his skin. 

Harry huffs a laugh. When she looks up, he says, “There was a rumour I had a dragon tattooed across my chest when I was sixteen.” 

Blair rolls her eyes. “Of course there was.” Sometimes it’s hard to imagine her husband as the figure in the middle of a civil war. A boy who was hounded by peers, press, and government alike; a boy who died to keep those people alive. “You went for the house pride instead.” 

“Once a Gryffindor always a Gryffindor,” he recites, a funny mix of Ron and Hermione. He lifts his head to kiss Blair, his hand warm on her hip. “Don’t you live your life dependant on a class you were in at school?”

And Blair tips her head back and laughs at the thought. When she was sixteen the war she fought was vicious and brutal and she was the queen. “Anyone I care about was here today,” she says instead, and then leans down and kisses Harry to quiet any further questions. 

When Harry slides into her she breathes in deeply, her head back, eyes closed, and she fumbles for his hand, links them together, and counts every star in the galaxy for bringing them to this moment. 

  
  
  


.

  
  
  


“I thought I would feel different,” Harry mumbles into her hair, his arms around Blair’s waist. 

“Well, we’ve done that a few times before,” Blair points out, deliberately misunderstanding. 

“Being married to you,” Harry says, kissing her neck. “But I love you just the same.” 

“Did you mean what you said to Ron? About marrying me after three months?”

And Harry leans on to his elbow, tilts Blair’s chin so their eyes meet. “You know I’ve wanted to spend the rest of my life with you since the moment I met you.”

“Don’t be hyperbolic,” Blair argues, feeling so warm and content and  _ happy _ , she has the ability to have fun with this. 

Harry frowns, and Blair forgets sometimes that he can be so sincere. “Blair, when I fell into you in Italy I knew I wanted to be with you as long as you wanted me.” He kisses her and she tastes every bit of the truth. “I love you.”

“I love you, Harry,” those eight letters, three words.

  
  


.

  
  


The honeymoon has been kept a secret - a secret created by Harry and protected by Serena. After breakfast with their guests, Harry and Blair thank everyone, wave goodbye, and then Harry takes Blair’s hand and turns on the spot.

She smells the sea before she opens her eyes and she knows that there’s a cafe on the other side of the square, a gelateria a few minutes away, and a hotel with a suite around the corner that she spent three months in two years ago. 

Blair looks across the water, remembers her life then, and then turns and kisses Harry, her body leaning into his. 

“Fancy an ice cream? Hopefully I won’t drop this one.”

“Pity Gamp’s law means you couldn’t summon a new one if you do.”

“Gamp? Summoning? Are you a witch, ma’am?” 

“I am, actually. I spend all my time on a broom looking for a flying ball while my husband works hard to earn a living.”

“Your husband sounds like an incredible man.” 

Their hands swing between them as they walk across the square, minds on ice cream and first meetings and new lives. 

“He’s an incredibly lucky man to have me as a wife,” Blair says, adjusting her sunglasses so she’s not squinting when she tilts her head to gaze up at Harry. All this time and she forgets how damn tall he is. 

“I think you’re right, babe,” he replies, grinning. He bends his neck to kiss her, his hand on her waist, and Blair feels so stupidly lucky. 


End file.
